


the weary, weary world

by NoScrubs12345



Series: ineffable [2]
Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-17
Updated: 2014-05-17
Packaged: 2018-01-25 12:09:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 438
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1648154
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NoScrubs12345/pseuds/NoScrubs12345
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Last Christmas, he was happy and celebrating with his friends. It's funny how much things change in a year.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the weary, weary world

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Polski available: [the weary, weary world](https://archiveofourown.org/works/8980864) by [Hadlathneth](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hadlathneth/pseuds/Hadlathneth)



The bells from the village below cut through the air, ringing in Christmas. Remus can see the small church from the villa, lit with warmth from the inside, and if he listens hard enough he can just make out the soft strains of “O Holy Night” drifting up the hill.

He knows he should feel something, some sense of good tidings and good will to men. But it’s hard to miles from home, his heart broken and his sheets and skin smelling of someone else. Someone not _him_. Last Christmas, he had been surrounded by his friends, smiling and laughing and bouncing a gurgling Harry on his knee. Last Christmas, Sirius had caught him under the mistletoe and they’d finally begged off early with a wink from James and a knowing smirk from Lily. It’s funny how much things can change in a year.

He raises his cigarette to his lips as he hears the bed creak and the sheets rustle, and sighs as he feels arms wrap around him from behind.

“Come back to bed, angel,” his partner says, pressing a kiss to his shoulder.

“I told you not to call me that,” Remus whispers, raising the cigarette to his lips again and exhaling. “I’m not him, Anthony.”

“And I’ve told you those things will be the death of you,” the demon says with a cringe. He squeezes Remus’s middle and stares out the window at the church below, something unreadable crossing his reflection's face. “You’re one to talk, you know.”

Remus chuckles darkly, turning in the man’s arms. “Was this one of your special projects?”

The man meets his eyes briefly, yellow staring into blue, and Remus has to look away as the wolf inside him recoils.

“No,” he finally says. “I’m sorry, but the things you lot come up with are worse than anything we ever could.”

“I’m not like them,” Remus whispers, turning away from him. “Other humans.”

“You keep telling yourssself that,” Crowley says with a hiss; it's an oft repeated argument. “One day you might actually believe it.”

“But I’m not,” Remus says, nevertheless leaning into the man’s embrace after snuffing out the cigarette.

“You’re not like the other lycanthropes either,” Crowley whispers against his shoulder. “Just like I’m not like the other demons. Or Aziraphale’s crowd.”

“We’re a pair then,” Remus says, beginning to trail kisses along Crowley’s jaw. “Let’s go back to bed,” he breathes, nipping at his earlobe as the demon shivers.

“That’s the best idea you’ve had all night,” Crowley says and crushes their lips together.

And for a while, both can forget it’s someone else they’re missing.


End file.
